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Thursday, June 7, 2018
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
OPINION

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Ann Arbor, MI 48109
 tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at 
the University of Michigan since 1890.

I 

spent this past weekend moving 
into a new house, “new” meaning 
not yet lived in by me, but old by 
all other standards. My father and I 
rolled up our sleeves and got to work, 
climbing up and down three stories, 
arms filled with boxes of oddities, 
mementos of game days and fragile 
mugs. We worked strategically and 
hastily, combining our mental and 
physical capacities to rebuild the 
deconstructed IKEA bed in the 
designated corner of my uniquely 
shaped room.
My dad taught me how to do this–
how to move. How to ready cardboard 
boxes for packing, how to use a set 
of tools, how to lift boxes from your 
knees (not your back) and how to 
declutter. I had 45 minutes a day in 
the third grade dedicated to cursive, 
another 45 to long division. In high 
school, 60 minutes a day were set aside 
for lacrosse and another generous 60 
to seeing friends. However, among 
the dance classes and math tutors, 
there was one lesson I was never 
explicitly taught, a sport for which 
I’ve never attended practice. Nobody 
has taught me how to be happy.
Intrinsically, we are inclined to 
try to find happiness ourselves. We 
all take a break from homework to 
surround ourselves with positive 
friends or music, allow ourselves 
to wander and get lost between the 
pages of a book, go for a run or stop 
for an ice cream cone just because 
it makes us happy. But when those 
tactics don’t work, I (along with many 
other college students, it seems) don’t 
know where to turn. My classmates 
and friends are often stressed and 

unhappy, riddled with anxiety and 
inclined to hide it in order to prioritize 
the coursework that needs to be 
done by tomorrow. And the day after 
tomorrow. And the day after that. 
Slowly, classes trump hobbies, and the 
things that make us happy succumb 
to the tasks that keep us enrolled in 
school; it’s hard to enjoy the pages 
you’re reading when they come with a 
looming due date or require a 10-page 
analysis. My lacrosse coach and third 
grade teacher taught me how to work 
hard but not how to be happy. Who is 
responsible for doing that now?
Colleges 
and 
universities 
nationwide 
are 
beginning 
to 
recognize this gap in education. At 
Yale University, Happiness 101 aims 
to change the culture on campus 
by 
promoting 
social 
activities, 
organizational skills and gratitude 
while pointing out detrimental habits 
like procrastination and sweeping 
emotions under the rug. Nearly a 
quarter of Yale’s undergraduate 
population enrolled in the course this 
semester, a statistic that reflects the 
need and desire for information about 
happiness and how to achieve it.
The University of Michigan is 
following this trend and joining 
Yale in offering courses designed to 
discussing happiness. For example, 
a first-year seminar offered this fall 
term called Psychology as a Social 
Science addresses what makes life 
worth living and promotes practices 
that align with a healthy and 
meaningful life. Another course, titled 
Happiness and Health: Exploring 
the Science, will hit on similar 
ideas, asking if laughter can heal us, 

if thinking positively can help us 
succeed, and how stress, depression 
and anxiety play a role in the world of 
psychology and medicine.
A big question that we must ask 
ourselves is whether we think our 
University can fill that role and 
promote a noncompetitive, grade-
independent 
well-being 
rather 
than focusing simply on academics. 
Certainly the kinks would need to be 
smoothed out and questions answered 
regarding how one would be graded 
in a U-M Happiness 101 class. But I 
believe Wolverines would welcome 
this class into the LSA Course Guide 
with open arms. Many of us prioritize 
our classes over anything else (to any 
who discredit that claim, I challenge 
you to find a table at the Shapiro 
Undergraduate 
Library 
on 
any 
given Sunday), meaning this week’s 
statistics lecture takes the No. 1 spot 
on our to-do list, and our hobbies and 
interests are slighted. We’ve been 
conditioned to deprioritize happiness 
in order to achieve a high grade 
point average, resulting in life habits 
that are harmful and unsustainable. 
That’s why I think that a Happiness 
101 class here at the University would 
allow us to reprioritize happiness 
along with our GPAs and forgo those 
harmful habits altogether. Given 
the competitive nature and drive for 
success that is bred at the University, 
Happiness 101 might be the only way 
to simultaneously focus on our work 
and well-being.

EMMA CHANG | COLUMN

 EMMA CHANG
Editorial Page Editor
EMMA RICHTER
Managing Editor

Emma Chang
Joel Danilewitz
Samantha Goldstein
Elena Hubbell
Emily Huhman
Tara Jayaram

Jeremy Kaplan
Sarah Khan
Magdalena Mihaylova
Ellery Rosenzweig
Jason Rowland

Anu Roy-Chaudhury
Alex Satola
Ali Safawi
 Ashley Zhang
Sam Weinberger

Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board. 
All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.

ASIF BECHER
Editor in Chief

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

JULIA MONTAG | COLUMN

Happiness 101

Julia Montag can be reached at 

asafawi@umich.edu.

Confessions of a closeted Rosshole
I

t really is a daunting 
task, 
deciding 
your 
career path at the ripe 
old age of 18. It has been a 
little over a year since I found 
out I was accepted into the 
University of Michigan and 
the Ross School of Business. 
I 
remember 
thinking 
everyone knew what they 
were going to study in the 
fall. Little did I know, that 
is not true for everyone and 
many people will change 
their minds at least once, if 
not twice, in college. With so 
much excitement joining the 
U-M community, I did not 
realize it came with a whole 
new 
platform 
for 
college 
memes. The punchline for a 
lot of these jokes, however, 
involves business majors or 
– as we’re known on campus 
– Rossholes.
I’m what you might refer 
to as a “closeted” Rosshole. 
I applied to the Business 
School without any rhyme or 
reason and, to my surprise, 
was accepted. I remember 
being 
ecstatic 
until 
I 
realized the reputation that 
being in Ross carries on 
this campus. STEM majors 
scoff at you and you can’t 
exactly 
bond 
with 
other 
non-STEM majors because, 
you know, capitalism. As a 
freshman 
with 
absolutely 
no 
idea 
what 
the 
stock 
market is and an inability to 
pretend I understood how 
Wall 
Street 
worked, 
this 
was particularly confusing 
to me. What exactly is the 
stigma 
surrounding 
the 
B.B.A.? What exactly made 
me a “Rosshole?”
Honestly, to truly define 
what 
campus 
deems 
a 
Rosshole, you have to go 
to the meme pages. There, 
you can find the meaning of 
Rosshole clear as day. First, 
you have to be someone 
who incessantly talks about 
the fact that they’re in the 
Business 
School. 
Then, 
obviously, comes the Canada 
Goose jackets. Can’t be a 
true Rosshole without it. 
The overall effect is just a 
stuck-up person who will 
end up with some kind of 
fancy internship – that they 
may or may not deserve – 
doing something they don’t 
particularly understand that 

will eventually get them a 
lot of money. Kind of mind-
boggling, no?

I can totally see why the 
rest 
of 
the 
school 
hates 
business students so much. 
The building itself screams 
Rosshole with its namesake, 
Stephen M. Ross, donating 
millions 
of 
dollars 
to 
enhance the already-garish 
façade on East University 
Avenue. Meanwhile, across 
campus, other departments 
may be struggling to find 
funding. It is infuriating. It 
is, wait for it, capitalism.
With 
this 
mindset, 
I 
entered 
freshman 
year 
unwilling to divulge the fact 
that I was in the Business 
School, which, let me tell 
you, was very difficult. The 
first two questions you get 
when meeting someone new 
anywhere on this campus is, 
“What are you studying?” 
and, as a freshman, “Where 
are you living?” Both of 
these questions posed issues 
because I was in the Business 
School and living in Martha 
Cook. Both of these answers 
can garner very negative, 
albeit interesting responses. 
I learned how to explain 
away the funny looks I got 
when I said I lived in the 
all-girls dorm with a severe 
reputation by mentioning it’s 
actually a really nice place 
to live, but that’s another 
story for another time. How 
did I deal with answering 
the major question? I had 
a couple of solutions, both 
of 
which 
were 
equally 

Continue reading on page 5.

“Little did I 
know, that...
many people 
will change 
their minds 
if not once, at 
least twice, in 
college.”

